Naturally Susan: Rosie

The hot days of summer are nearly upon us. And if you're a furry black dog like Lilah, you're going to find ways to cool off. Lilah is always the first dog to find a shady spot under a tree. She's also the one who finds mud to lie down in, and will dig a lovely, cool dog bed in the garden.

But I think Lilah's favorite thing to do when it gets warm is to go swimming in the doggy pool. On hot days, I'll drag the pool out of the shed and set it up in the shade. Lilah watches the whole process closely, probably because she is somewhat suspicious of the water hose. But once the pool is filled and the hose is removed, she jumps right in.

Lilah's favorite activity in the pool is to walk around in a circle, blowing bubbles with her nose under water. Now Jasper and Tucker, on the other paw, well, their favorite thing to do with the pool is to stay far, far away. For two dogs with an aversion to getting wet, a doggy pool seems like utter insanity.

Lilah loves blowing bubbles in her pool

Nothing like a wet drippy doggy face.

There is often more than one pool out for the dogs. Well, Dog. It's Lilah who plays in both of them.

The boys just don't understand the concept; if a bath is torture and rain is barely tolerable, why in the world would you want to put your paws in the pool? Even for treats. Though I have been able to convince them now and again to do it.

With treats as incentives, Aaron entices Jasper to get his paws wet on the top step of our in-ground pool. Lilah has already happily splashed back and forth along the top.

With lots of encouragement and treats, I can sometimes get the boys to put a few paws in a pool. Rarely all four at the same time. Here, Jasper has his two front paws in the water, and Tucker just the one.

Because Lilah is aware of the boys' distaste for water, she uses the pool quite strategically. When Jasper and Tucker chase her a little too aggressively, she heads straight for it, leaping in with a big splash. You can hear the screech of tires burning rubber as the two brothers put the brakes on so they don't wind up in the pool with Lilah. She'll slowly turn around in the pool, with a sneaky dog smile, "Why don't you come in, boys? The water is divine." Of course, they don't. Lilah: 1, Jasper and Tucker: 0. A typical score on a warm sunny day.

Tucker just doesn't understand the appeal.

Fascinated at Lilah's behavior, Tucker still keeps his distance. He doesn't want to get Unnecessarily Wet .

On his own, without Lilah to splash him, Tucker investigates. Maybe it's just a giant water bowl?

When Rosie was with us, swimming took on a whole new meaning; she loved to jump in our in-ground pool. She'd chase a stick or ball thrown in the water, diving in and paddling back to the stairs with it, hoping you'd throw it again. She was such a pool hound; it was amazing to see her swim over to a float and climb up on it; I don't know how she managed to balance on those wobbly things, but she did. Rosie was In Charge of the pool. If you were splashing too much and she thought she needed to "save" you, she'd leap into the water, and make her way over to you with her scruffy wet nose in the air--and then she'd paw at you until you took notice. And if you kept on being noisy after that, she'd run around the deck and bark.

Rosie loved water in all its forms. She used to Help me water my garden, and enjoyed Helping a young Corinne fill up a re-purposed kiddie pool as well.

A dripping wet Rosie after a swim in the pool.

It's June already, and hot summer days are upon us. I'll be bringing out the doggy pool more often, and I'm sure Lilah will make good use of it. Maybe by the end of the summer, I'll convince the boys that swimming can be fun.

Or maybe not.

What is it about sticks?

It seems everybody likes them.

Dogs like 'em of course.

Jasper and Lilah, sticking together. Pun intended.

But people have been known to play with sticks as well. When my daughter Corinne was little, she had a pet stick. To anyone who has young children, it would come as no surprise that she named it Stick. Every time we went outside, Corinne wanted to walk around with Stick. Just holding it. 'Cause that's what you did with Stick. You held it. Though she wanted to bring it inside, I was able to convince Corinne that Stick would be happy in it's wagon bed in the garage.

There was a slight issue, though, because our dog at the time--Kelsey--liked sticks, too. And she really could not tell the difference between uppercase, proper noun Stick the pet and the lowercase, garden-variety, tree debris type stick.

This led to several disagreements that often resulted in tears on the part of Corinne, and a quick sleight of hand switcheroo that allowed Kelsey to play with a generic, unnamed stick.

And all was right with the world.

Corinne and Stick. The official Stick is in her right hand. The other one is a generic stick for Kelsey.

And it's not just little kids that play with sticks.

Last year, Brian, Corinne and I went to see Big Bambu, an art installation on the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in Manhattan. (It's worth clicking on the link to see the pictures.) Constructed of bamboo, this huge piece was designed and built by Mike and Doug Starn, along with a team of experienced climbers. The art was in the doing, and visitors were able to walk around--and eventually through and on top of--this incredible interactive sculpture--even while it was under construction--and deconstruction.

Stairway to heaven...on sticks. The path through Big Bambu.

We were lucky enough to get on a guided walk through Big Bambu as sunset bloomed over the city. Cameras weren't allowed within the exhibit (too many opportunities to drop them on the other art lovers below), but it was quite magical.

Corinne, surrounded by sticks, at Big Bambu.

A grown-up Corinne loved it. I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

And even I have had the pleasure of working and playing with sticks. Since more than half of our property is woods, there were plenty of branches, limbs and twigs for me to create a visual barrier to my perennial garden. My goal was to keep the dogs out; only partially effective, it still added an artistic, rustic feel to my flower bed.

My garden, with its natural stick fence.

But in the end, sticks really are The Best Things for Dogs.

First of all, they're so much fun to chew. You get that satisfying munchy feel against your teeth, yet because sticks are softer than bones, you get lots of little Stick Bits that are fun to spit out. (Unless you're a puppy and still try to eat them.)

Kelsey, enjoying a good chew. (And that's not Stick, by the way.)

Tucker looks like he's smoking a pipe, but it's just a good gnawin' stick.

If you're not busy chewing on a stick, you can just walk around with it. Or run around with it. Kelsey used to love to carry a really long stick and then sprint toward her people, in an attempt to run between them with it. She never quite got the concept that the stick was wider than she was, so her errors of judgement often resulted in two humans being slammed in their calves, and a stunned Kelsey who didn't understand what stopped her so suddenly.

We all learned to pay close attention when Kelsey was Carrying a Big Stick.

A stick in the snow is lots of fun, too. When people throw it for you, sometimes it lands in a way that points up--and other times you have to dig for it, which is even more exciting. The best sticks are the ones you remove from the snowman and snow lady. How nice of Mom to make them so accessible and easy to find.

Rosie and her stick in the snow. Eventually, she'd ask us the throw it, but it was fun to Run Mucks first.

There's a whole process, by the way, to finding the perfect stick. The recent fall snowstorm left our yard littered with humongous piles of branches just waiting for the right dog. Many of them still had leaves on them, which are, to some, extra special.

To find the right stick, you need to assess the inventory. Once you decide which one you want, you have to Get It. Which might mean pulling it off a larger branch.

Tucker puts all his weight into getting the right stick.

You can always see if the large branch itself has possibilities.

Lilah considers a large branch. Tucker looks on, in case he would like it, too.

Even a large piece of bark has potential--stick potential and pun potential, though the dogs didn't really appreciate the latter.

Tucker and Jasper discuss ownership of a bark. I believe they both own pretty impressive barks.

So many huge limbs fell during the snowstorm, that, as a dog, you just had to try to get The Big One. Just once, at least.

Tucker chews on a huge limb.

Or if you were Lilah, who we've always felt is part cat and part goat, you could just walk on the big stick.

Lilah is so proud of herself, walking on the giant branch. Jasper seems a little worried. But that's his normal state: a little worried.

Or use it as a springboard to leap over your brother.

All the agility practice pays off as Lilah leaps over Jasper.

Picking out the best stick takes strength and skill.

Tucker and Jasper choose sticks from the same pile.

Sometimes, it's best to do a test gnaw while the stick is still attached to the rest of the branch.

Lilah testing out the chewability of a possible stick choice.

Once you found your stick, it's best to run around the yard and show the other dogs that you have the Best Stick and they Do Not. More then likely, one or the other of them will try to Get Your Stick. But they have to catch you first. Which is probably the point.